Gemotions

He stared at the blinking cursor, the empty document mocking him. Each keystroke felt like an eternity. John sighed, stretching until his back cracked. The sterile office air, thick with the scent of stale coffee and stale ambition, felt suffocating. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture a nervous tic he’d developed over the last few weeks. He'd tried to focus, but the task at hand felt utterly meaningless.

A colleague’s sudden shout echoed down the hallway. Something about a closed-door meeting and the CEO looking “grim.” John, his own pulse quickening unexpectedly, considered feigning a sudden illness to get out of the day. Then, curiosity, sharp and insistent, took hold.